So on Sunday afternoon, when it came time to cut something (I don’t even remember what), I was taking the cutting board out of the cupboard when my son said “I want to carry it to the table”. I passed the board to him, and somehow (the exact sequence of events is still being discussed since we don’t have instant replay), the board fell on my son’s big toe. A very heavy maple board. It hurt like a bitch. My son blames it on me. I blame it on an incomplete transfer. Who knows?

The problem is, although I know it does hurt, my son is a bit of a drama king and I cannot fully trust his reaction to know how bad it is. He was able to play with his friends, but as soon as he was bored the tears would come back. He kept waking up after going to bed, so I finally gave him children Tylenol hoping it would help. He fell asleep at last. Then woke up at 4 in the morning after peeing in bed, which he never does.

The week was hard. Our baby’s morning nap had to go because Zak has to take her along with him and the boy now that I’m back at work, and my son had a class every morning this week (a one week theater workshop). She didn’t sleep too well in the afternoon either and still wakes up at 5:30, so she’s exhausted. Me too, of course. Work is fine, but it would be easier on more sleep. And Zak is exhausted and kinda sick of dealing with a cranky baby and an over-dramatic boy.

Last night my son woke up at 1 am, wet again. I’m suspecting foul play on this one, so I announced that if this kept up we would put the diapers back. No shaming, no telling off, but I’m just not going to change the bed twice a week in the middle of the night. He didn’t seem to like the possibility, so hopefully that motivates him to get up to pee. Then I had trouble falling back asleep. And then the baby woke up just before 5. I let her cry until 5:30, but of course I didn’t sleep a wink.

To make matters worse, my son’s toe is not getting any better. It was redder this morning, Zak thinks his nail is going to fall and I can only imagine how well that will go. Although I understand that it hurts a lot, Zak and I are having to refrain from telling him “at least you’re not dying like your friend”. Of course we refrain. But it’s tempting!

And our friends are going to stay put in the end, but it’s not really good news. Their child is doing much, much worse. They get about half an hour of normal behaviour, and then the child stops responding when being talked to and kinda wanders aimlessly. They were hospitalized last week and were wondering if the child would ever come out. So there will be no move because a) the child is not healthy enough to move, and b) they figure there is not enough time left to make it worth it.

As you can see, it was a wonderful week. At least, work is grand. People are happy I’m back (they don’t replace people on mat leave, plus someone retired recently, plus there is no replacing anyone in the near future because there’s no money and some people are actually getting laid-off) because I ease their workload. I get to mentor a new employee who is nice, enthusiastic, happy and – most of all – good. I can sip tea without being interrupted by my baby crying.

Zak is jealous and makes me feel guilty about being able to escape… but I know my bliss won’t last. Soon there will be issues at work again. Soon he will settle in a new routine and get to enjoy his freedom. For the time being, I try to enjoy work during the day and my family at night.

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on Friday, August 19th, 2011 at 12:56 pm and is filed under Family life, Uncategorized.
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One Response to “Bad maman!”

First of all, I think you should stop beating up your boy, it’s not an acceptable behavior and it does induce peing in bed when they’re small, and then much worse later on. Don’t worry, I’m kiding. I do remember a time when, a thursday night, my 2 year old boy was in full temper tantrum and I lifted him by the arms, swung around and deposited him on his bed. The next morning, he had marks on both his arms, I guess from the twisting movement my fingers made around his arms when I swung him around. I was so ashamed that I stayed home with him instead of taking him to day care, afraid of what they might think. Of course on monday I told the story to his educator, who made fun of me.

Now that my kids are quite grown up, I needed a dog to get more work. But I do sleep better!